Thanatopsis
by Divinia Serit
Summary: Collection of oneshots- dealing with Jane/Lisbon, team fic, and a little Rigsby/VP. UPDATED. CH14- The Reckoning- written for Paint it Red Ficathon, Season 3 finale alternative scenario
1. All We'd Ever Need

**I've decided to write a series of unrelated one shots to help clear my head while I work on Smoke and Mirrors. The title is from the Greek thanatos ("death") and the suffix -opsis (literally, "sight"); it has often been translated as "Meditation upon Death". It is a poem by William Cullen Bryant. Most of the oneshots won't be so angst!**

**Here's a depressing little oneshot that I've been meaning to write for a very long time. This one came about when I thought-what if Jane had been too late in Red John's Footsteps. Plus, I wanted to write something really depressing for the October challenge after my little fluffy entry. Slightly different style-it's meant to be a little choppy. Major Character Death-you have been warned! There is a line from Shakespeare's MacBeth in here as well.**

_Title: All We'd Ever Need  
__Author: Divinia Serit  
__Rating: T  
__Genre: Angst/HurtComfort  
__Spoilers: 1x23 Red John's Footsteps  
__Warning: Major Character Death, one bad word  
__Prompt: Frozen in Time, JelloForever October Challenge_

* * *

"_I should've been chasing you  
I should've been trying to prove  
That you were all that mattered to me"_

_-All We'd Ever Need, Lady Antebellum_

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He couldn't help but watch the lackadaisical water droplets trickle down the glass- blurring the world from the inside out. He envied the droplet's carefree path as it rolled this way and that way until it finally reached the windowsill and was absorbed into the parched wood. His gaze returned to the top of the pane as the cycle started over. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

He could feel the cool metal of the doorknob against his palm and he vaguely wondered how he came to be in front of the door. His free hand rose to caress the worn wood and he felt it splinter under his light touch. Another moment passed and he found himself outside. The night sky was clear save for the light precipitation that made no move to worsen from it's harmless state. It took him a moment to realize he was freezing.

He sank to his knees in the middle of the darkness and turned his face up to the sky. He could feel the chill in his bones, but he made no move to care. He was numb. Alone. Frozen in time like a fucked up snow globe devoid of a happy scene or a fairy tale ending. Instead, regret and despair fluttered around him every time it was shaken once more. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

The images wouldn't leave his head. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. Her haunted expression. The way she slipped to the ground. The irony was that it never should have happened. That man never should have been able to get a hold of the gun. But he did. And that moment would forever echo in his mind. A mock hunt, he was forever on the wrong track- chasing the wrong thing while the fox happily ran to ground.

He trembled when he recalled the way her green eyes pleaded for him to say something. Anything. Her eyes searched his own as she drew in a shaky breath. He floundered, speechless for the first time in his life. She closed her eyes in resignation, accepting that this was all he could give. He wanted to laugh at the unfairness of it all. Not her. Never her.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from his throat and he found himself back in front of the window. Outside looking in. Unworthy of the warmth inside. SMASH. His fist slammed through the window-bits of broken glass sparkling around him. He was hollow. His actions weren't his own. He was mesmerized by the blood as it trailed down the window. His quest for Red John seemed so futile. He was chasing the wrong thing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Streaks of red rolling down the cracked edges. So many words left unspoken. He clawed at his throat for fear he would suffocate in the oppressive silence. She was gone. He reached down and picked up a shard of broken glass while kicking the rest off the porch. It glittered like snow as it fell. Clenching his fist, he felt the glass bite into his skin before he hurled it as far as it would go. He fell to his knees, unable to stop the heart wrenching sobs.

Both hands were bloody now. How figurative. There was always blood on his hands. A brief memory of high school English fluttered to the surface of his mind. Out, out damned spot. The guilt was eating him alive and he was losing his grasp on reality. It was too much. She was gone-the mantra that replayed in his head. She was gone and he was too late- frozen once again.


	2. Monster Mash

**So, I really wanted to write a Halloween story. Cliche, I know, but I just love holiday stories! They're so much fun, and Halloween is one of my personal favorites! And hopefully, this insanely fluffy and cute oneshot will make up for the tragicness of the chapter before. I hope y'all enjoy it! I had a great time with it! Oh, and LIsbon's costume is something I've done before! Hahahahahaha!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, especially since it was a character death. I'm glad y'all read it anyways! This chapter is dedicated to WildDaisies who always makes me smile with her enthusiastic reviews! Thanks to Tromana, EmmaBerlin, Maybeline36, Yaba, Penelope Louise, Wilddaisies, JadeStar, Viktorija, Caterina Carmela, Nellie, Miss Nita Girl, and AnkaS. Thank you all!!!!!**

**_Title: Monster Mash  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: K+  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Spoilers: None really  
warnings: cuteness!_**

Teresa Lisbon shivered as she buried her face into her orange fuzzy scarf. It was too early in the year to be this cold she decided as she crammed her hands into her coat pocket. She had always loved fall. There was a briskness in the air that seemed to cause an extra spring in her step as she passed the lines of trees turning cool fall colors. Ducking into a nearby coffee shop, she emerged with a steaming cup of apple cider. She inhaled the spicy sweet scent before continuing her walk back to the office.

The small shops lining the streets were decked out in black paper bats and plastic skeletons while carved jack-o-lanterns spilled onto the sidewalk. Everyone was in a festive mood, especially the children as they imagined the piles of candy that would be earned as it grew dark. Several were already dressed in their costumes-their little mouths running nonstop over when they would be allowed to go door to door. She smiled as she passed a dinosaur that was quite concerned with keeping his tail clean and off the street.

Even the adults were joining in, unable to resist the lure of disguise and she knew the local police would soon have their hands full with tricks gone out of control. She just hoped they wouldn't be called out tonight. Her plans included the big bowl of candy that was currently waiting patiently by the door next to the witch's hat. For the past several years, she would flip on an old horror movie and wait for the little knocks to rap on her door. Passing another store, she eyed a display of pumpkins. Maybe she'd purchase one on the way home from work. It had been years since she had carved one herself.

Pleased with the addition to her plans, she pushed the office door open with her hip. She grinned at the agents who always used the holiday season to disregard the dress code. The major case guys seemed to have a pirate versus ninja war going on. She ducked to avoid a plastic sword that flew her way, and waved off the apology. She could see that faint outline of her boss. She knew from years of experience that when he smiled today, he would be sporting a pair of vampire fangs.

Van Pelt was walking around with sparkly red shoes on, her hair pulled into two braided pigtails. Rigsby, of course, was a scarecrow. She was just relieved no one was allergic to the hay that dropped in clumps behind him. Cho was always subtle with his costumes. He nodded to her with a grin as she threw him an amused smile. With his tweed coat and pipe, she knew he had pulled the costume right out of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes. Jane was nowhere to be seen, and that worried her slightly.

Slipping into her office, she set her cider down on her desk. A soft smile crossed her face when she noticed the tiny orange pumpkin next to her computer. Someone had drawn a face on it with a sharpie. Someone else had covered her door with fake spider web material and she felt a warm feeling pass through her body. They really were her family, and she loved the spirit that surrounded this time of year. She chuckled when someone with a light saber ran past her office. A ninja shortly followed.

Reaching for the jar of candy corn, she proceeded to nibble the candy by color from the small end up. It had been a habit of hers for as long as she could remember. A noise to her left startled her, and she quickly looked towards her door. Patrick Jane was leaning against the door frame with a long red cape billowing around him. She raised an eyebrow as she caught a glimpse of the insignia on his chest. She bit her lip in order to contain the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape.

"Really, Jane?" she questioned with a slight lift of one eyebrow. He grinned lazily at her before walking farther into her office until he was leaning against her desk. She fought to keep her eyes from tracing the contours of his chest under the tight t-shirt. His eyes sparkled playfully as he leaned closer to her and she was satisfied with her ability to keep her breathing even.

"What are you supposed to be?" he asked as he looked her up and down. She was clad in black from head to toe, except for the bright orange scarf she had yet to remove. Smirking she grabbed the small, clear umbrella at the edge of her desk. Opening it, he grinned as he touched one of the sparkly ribbons hanging down from every edged prong. She twirled it over her head for a beat.

"Isn't it obvious," she teased. "I'm a jelly fish." He laughed out loud at her comment as she closed the umbrella with a smile.

The rest of the day passed by relatively uneventful. Well, as uneventful as things could be when half of the law enforcers were dressed in ridiculous costumes. Thankfully, the California public neglected to commit any major crime over the course of the day. It was a miracle. The kitchen was filled with candy and cupcakes all tastefully decorated with a Halloween theme. Rigsby was in heaven.

Unlocking her front door, she slipped inside her dark house with a sigh. Flipping on the TV, she dropped her umbrella on the side table and flicked her porch light on. Snuggling into a large blanket, she scrolled through the channels until she found a movie that piqued her interest. She always did love witches and supernatural events. A knock at her door caused her to jump and look at her watch with a frown. It was still earlier for trick or treaters.

She was practically bowled over when Jane burst through the door. Crossing her arms, she glared at him for interrupting her peaceful evening. His arms were filled with bags that he quickly dropped on her kitchen table. She could only watch as he made himself at home. She gaped at him, when he suddenly tuned toward her with some black face paint and before she knew it she had a black nose and whiskers on her cheeks.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked loudly as she backed away from the man. He grabbed her wrist when she made a move to swipe at her face. Grinning, he plopped a pair of furry cat ears on her head.

"We are going trick or treating and you, my little jellyfish, will need your hands free!" He looked like he was going to burst from excitement and she closed her mouth before she said something that would ruin the mood. She took a deep breath and counted to five before finding herself reluctantly agreeing with his plan. Grabbing her by the hand, he practically dragged her out of her own home, only letting her stop to put the bowl of candy in front of her door.

Throughout the night, he beamed at her as they walked towards the last house. Her feet were hurting, but she couldn't help but grin when she recognized the car in the driveway. With a playful grin, Jane turned to her and removed a package of plastic forks from his bag. She grinned in response as they quietly set their bags of candy down and proceeded to stick the plastic utensils all over his front lawn. Bosco was going to kill them. She knew it was a childish prank, but there was something so innately satisfying about annoying her old mentor who apparently didn't celebrate Halloween judging from the lack of decorations and dark porch.

A light flicked on inside, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from squealing. Eyes twinkling, Jane grabbed her hand and they grabbed their things before taking off into the darkness. Candy flying, she burst into laughter as soon as they were a few blocks away. Jane studied her with a smile which only made her laugh harder. They were quite a pair-two adults, one dressed like Superman and the other a black cat, out of breath and laughing loudly and dimly lit by a few streetlights. Oh, the things she did for this man!


	3. Heffalumps and Woozles

**So, I told my sister to give me four prompts for a story. I should have known better! Add that to the fact that twin and I were discussing how Jane managed to sneak up on people (especially Lisbon) and sneak away, and that someone should just put a bell on him. This story is a result of those prompts and that story. The song lyrics are from the Heffalumps and Woozles lyrics from Winnie-the-Pooh. Here we go!**

**Thanks to: PENELOPE LOUISE, TROMANA, JADESTAR, FALLEN ANGELS OF LOVE, VIKTORIJA, SPACEANJL, FROGSTER, ELODIE WOLFE, WILD DAISIES, TESS, EBONY10, MISSNITAGIRL, EMMA BERLIN, YABA, LGMTREADER, KALEIDOSCOPEEYES, and CHIISANA MINAKO for reviewing the last chapter! I'm glad y'all enjoyed my little Halloween story!**

Title: Heffalumps & Woozles  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: K  
Spoilers: None  
Prompts: elephant, marshmallow, refrigerator, and external hard drive

"_They're in, they're out. they're all about  
They're far, they're near. they're gone, they're here  
They're quick and slick and insincere  
Beware Beware Beware Beware Beware .…"_

Kimball Cho slyly looked over the top edge of his paperback book. Although not quite as talented as Jane, Cho wasn't a slouch and prided himself on his ability to pick out small details especially in an interrogation. He quickly found out that people would let their guard down when they thought he was reading. Sure, they knew he was there, but his book seemed to serve as a barrier that exempted him from the scrutiny of the others. It had even worked when he was in school. People always trusted the quiet kid with the book. It was the epitome of responsibility.

It was a crisp fall day-one of those days that just made everyone feel more alive. The trees rustled outside the window, their leaves a myriad of orange, red, and yellow. He looked up from his book long enough to thank Van Pelt when she passed around the tin of pumpkin muffins she had slipped into the refrigerator earlier. The cool muffin crumbled in his mouth as his tongue was hit with the distinct taste of cinnamon. Flipping a page, he turned his attention back to the man on the couch after briefly glancing at his watch.

Patrick Jane had been acting oddly all day, and Cho was positive he had something up his sleeve. A small smirk lingered on the blond man's face while he closed his eyes and sighed with relaxation. His foot seemed to beat in time with an invisible tune that played in his head. Cho's eyes flickered to his boss' office, and he knew that if she was in a good mood now, there was a good chance she'd be severely annoyed in three hours or less. A cold chill swept through the room and a few lone leaves swirled about from their crumpled place on the floor.

His eyes narrowed when the consultant sprung up from the couch and silently made his way to Lisbon's office. Her blinds were drawn, and Cho knew that she had lost herself in the stacks of paperwork that had accumulated on her desk while they were detained at an out of town crime scene. She never complained though, but he made it a point to ask her once or twice a day if there was anything he could do to help. He closed his book when Jane quietly slipped into the office, and he wondered if he should alert Van Pelt and Rigsby to the recent development.

"Five bucks says Lisbon storms out of her office, yelling, in less than five minutes," Rigsby stated out of the blue. Cho grinned. The younger agent was getting more observant in his surroundings. Cho considered the bet for a moment and factored in his boss's good mood earlier that day. He had a strange feeling the tables would be turned back on Jane soon.

"You're on," he answered while Van Pelt rolled her eyes. She daintily picked up another muffin and plugged in her external hard drive. Of the three of them, she was the most likely candidate to actually get some work done, when Jane was on a mission. Cho found he was starting to greatly respect the rookie for her initiative and dedication to the job. She'd do well under Lisbon's tutelage.

His attention shifted back to the office when a loud thud came from Lisbon's office. The three agents exchanged a slightly wary look. Cho started to stand when all of a sudden, the door flung open and Jane stalked out with a sullen expression. He couldn't contain his laugh when Lisbon leaned against the doorway, sipping form her steaming hot chocolate. Cho could just make out the mound of marshmallows floating on top. She did have quite the sweet tooth.

Dangling from Jane's wrist was a pair of handcuffs, firmly secured, and definitely jingling with every step. Cho glanced down and grinned when he caught a glimpse of the bell permanently attached to the loose end of the cuff. Sitting on his couch, Jane tugged at the hardware which only made the jingling increase. Lisbon looked quite pleased with herself as she turned to the group with a smirk.

"If anyone gives him the key, you'll be on desk duty for a week," she stated before reentering her office. Cho shook his head and continued to watch Jane struggle with the bell like a cat that was trying to avoid water. After twenty minutes, he gave up and sulked before making his way back to Lisbon's office. He couldn't make out the words, but he was sure Jane was trying to get her to release him. He had a strange feeling that the consultant was going to be wandering around with a bell attached to him for the rest of the day.

Holding out his hand when Rigsby passed by, Cho tucked the five dollar bill into his wallet and wondered just how long Lisbon and Jane would ignore the elephant in the room. Maybe he should just handcuff them together, he mused as he picked up his book. Another smile crossed his face and he vowed to get Jane some catnip for Christmas.


	4. The Square Root of Tuesday

**So, I am almost positive most people won't really like this story. I'm considering it my academic entry into the November challenge, because there are a ridiculous amount of literary references in this short little thing. I love the prompt for this month, and I'm sure I'll have another entry that will be a little lighter and less philosophical! Heee. I couldn't resist! I love literary nonsense! Okay-authors named or referenced include: Louisa May Alcott, Harper Lee, Aldous Huxley, Roald Dahl, Lewis Carroll, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. It heavily points toward motifs/symbols found in Charlie and the Chocolate factory and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.**

Title: The Square Root of Tuesday  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: T  
Prompt: nonsense, JelloForever November Challenge

_"A little nonsense, now and then, is relished by the wisest men."  
-Willy Wonka, Charlie & the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl_

A childhood spent in the company of Lee and Alcott led to countless hours of imagery and alliteration, a leather diary in hand. Her long ginger hair plaited in pigtails while she leaned against an old oak tree with a glass of lemonade by her side. She had been an English major in college where the only indication of danger was an errant paper cut. A small town Iowa girl who changed her dreams in order to experience the life she read about. She wanted adventure and romance- a brave, new world.

What Grace Van Pelt didn't expect to find was a land of hornswogglers, snozzwangers, and Cheshire cat smiles. Instead of Longfellow she found Carroll with no white rabbit to lead the way. Gruesome crime and deception foreshadowed the bleakness of humanity where there were no storybook endings. She drew the conclusion that she had been seeking to find meaning, anywhere and everywhere, where perhaps none existed. What else could explain the madness in the world?

From behind the glow of her computer screen she studied the man sprawled on the couch, his face blank. Content to amuse others with a slight of hand, Patrick Jane was lost in his own wonderland where rules don't exist, and death was only a card away. His world was spiraled in shades of grey, blurring the lines between black and white with puzzles that had no clear solution.-Why is a raven like a writing desk, indeed? The question made her own head spin.

She watched as he glanced at his watch before returning his attention back to the ceiling. She wondered what went through his mind, and then shook her head before deciding she really didn't want to know. He was complex-constantly shifting from judgmental to benevolent, content to watch the other from afar. Like the elusive candy maker, he was quick to critique the vices of others and she wondered if there was a hint of truth threaded into his accusations.

She continued to stare as her boss approached the man pretending to sleep. Lisbon kicked the couch, and Jane's eyes opened. Van Pelt caught a glimpse of self-loathing in his gaze and pondered over the look as his face slipped back into the mask that others so easily overlooked. Her boss said something that caused the consultant to smile. Grace felt her own face begin to lighten as she observed the pair in front of her. It was curious and curiouser, she decided, as she caught the light brush of hands, the teasing smiles.

Lisbon was his golden ticket, Van Pelt realized. Somewhere during the last few months, Jane had begun to grasp onto the tiny shred of hope Teresa Lisbon had offered and maybe it would be enough the save them both. Van Pelt fought to hide her grin when Jane shot her an odd look. She probably looked crazy staring off into space with a ridiculous grin on her face, but after all, they were all a little mad. There must be something in the chocolate.


	5. Medley

**So apparently I'm in a mood to write montage stories that are inspired from everything under the sun. This one really didn't want to be written, but I think I've finally gotten it where I want! Nursery Rhymes and Lullabies are often considered nonsense songs. Looking at the lyrics it's easy to see (and I'd forgotten how violent most of them are!) This little one shot has bits from: 'All the Pretty Little Horses', 'Little Boy Blue', 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star', and 'Rock-a-bye Baby'. Then, in the middle of writing I remembered a song I had heard that always makes me cry- Stephen Curtis Chapman's Cinderella. It fit right in with the memory.**

**Thank to everyone who reviewed the last chapter in my little one shot series! I appreciate the feedback! Thanks to: ELODIE WOLFE, ODAKOTA ROSE, PHOENIX WYTCH, TROMANA, SPACE ANJL, YABA, CELTICGINA, VIKTORIJA, WILD DAISIES, PENELOPE LOUISE, EBONY, FROGSTER, JADESTAR, ALAMO GIRL, CH19777, and HABEOUS CORPUS. Thank you all for your support and encouragement!**

**_Title: Medley  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: T  
Prompt: Nonsense- JelloForever November Challenge_**

_"So I'll dance with Cinderella while she is here in my arms.  
'Cause I know something the prince never knew  
Oh I'll dance with Cinderella, I don't wanna miss even one song,  
Cuz all too soon the clock will strike midnight  
And she'll be gone"_

Orange, red, and yellow blurred together, twirling and tumbling in a jumbled mix before gently fluttering across the green grass. Another breeze would send them skating across the grass in a meandering path with no true destination. He watched as a little girl bundled in a bright purple winter hat jumped from pile to pile, leaving no leaf safe from the heel of her polka dotted rain boots. Her blond pigtails bounced as she spun around dancing to imaginary music in the warm sunshine, framed by another windfall of fluttering leaves.

His forehead was pressed to the cool glass as condensation trickled down the pane. His breath came in short spurts, a foggy circle appearing before him. There was a time when he would lift his finger and trace a smile onto the frosted window, but that time had long since passed and smiles now haunted his dreams. His attention shifted when the child tripped and fell to her knees in a tangle of limbs. He could picture her eyes welling up with tears, longing for a kiss that healed all wounds. Hush-a-bye, don't you cry.

The girl picked herself back up while pulling a ribbon from her hair and resumed her dancing. His eyes followed her every moment. The periwinkle silk fluttered among the deep colors, haphazardly jerking through the fall air and occasionally reflecting a beam of sunlight here or there. His eyes blurred and the spinning girl faded away, but not before dredging up old memories he had previously buried with his wife and daughter. After all, where was the boy who watched the sheep? He was under the haystack fast asleep.

It was ironic really. A man who prided himself on his observational skills failed to see what was happening right in front of him. He had been asleep-unaware that his family would pay the price. He closed his eyes tightly and willed the images to leave. His own daughter stood before him, grinning from ear to ear as he tied the ribbon into her braided hair. Her music box clutched in her hands, she would open it again and again while spinning and swaying to the classical melody without a care in the world. Twinkle, twinkle little star. Except, no one warned him the star would be extinguished. The bough had broken and his baby girl was gone.

Dusty hallways were lined with labeled boxes overflowing with tiny mittens and scarves, sparkling dress up clothes, and fairy tale stories. Cinderella had been her favorite. She had bugged her mother relentlessly for ballet classes, but of course his little princess got everything she wanted. The tutu had been a permanent clothing fixture for months. She would twirl around while his wife accompanied her on the piano with a delightful waltz. She would always pull him to his feet, and he would reluctantly trudge to the middle of the room before sweeping her into his arms as she let loose a stream of giggles.

Was he still a father? Did losing her revoke that honor? He was lost, confused. Doomed to wander aimlessly- his penance for his shortcomings. The music box closed with a click. The twinkling tune forever muted. The clock had struck midnight and after all, down had come baby, cradle and all. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and the spicy scent of cinnamon filled his senses. For a moment, he wondered why Lisbon was in his house, but the mind could play funny tricks as the happy family dissolved into the worn, leather couch.

He was afraid that if he looked into her fathomless green eyes she would know just how truly broken he was. He continued to look out the window in hopes she would leave, but he knew Lisbon would stand her ground until she got an answer. Her hand slid down to the crook of his elbow as she came up beside him. Her gaze was questioning, but he found no trace of pity. If anything, she seemed a little lost herself. He stifled a sarcastic chuckle as a clichéd thought crossed his mind. The blind were leading the blind, and clichés were surprisingly useful in clichéd situations.

Lisbon cocked her head to the side, obviously noticing a brief change in his demeanor. He wondered when she had become so well-versed in reading him. An idea flickered through his mind, and he quickly held out his hand. She eyed it warily for a moment, before sighing and slipping her own hand into his. He grinned as he intertwined their fingers, and pulled her towards the door. She huffed in feigned frustration, but offered no resistance as he bolted through the front doors. Reaching the sidewalk he had been staring at moments before, he dropped her hand and stretched his arms out to the side as another volley of leaves swirled around them. Her eyes twinkled as she stood with her hands on her hips wondering what the man in front of her was up too. Looking her in the eye, his face became slightly more apprehensive as he held out his hand once more.

"Dance with me," he whispered as she gave him an incredulous look.

He smiled when she allowed him to pull her close. He rested his free hand on the small of her back as he spun them both in circles amidst the multicolored leaves. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feeling of the woman in his arms. A small giggle escaped her lips, as he twirled her around before dipping her low to the ground. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Jane back together again, but maybe Teresa Lisbon could.


	6. Comfort Food

**Surprise! Yup, this was written as a birthday present for Shopping-Luva! Happy Birthday! I hope it brings a smile to your face. I must warn you-It was written in about an hour at 1 AM and I'm pretty drugged up on flu medication, so it's really random... I decided to share my grief with Lisbon, although I wish I had Jane to take care of me! Sigh. I'll be responding to review replies for Medley tomorrow! I just wanted to post this as soon as I finished it! Technically, it's still your birthday over here :P Thanks for being such an awesome person and loyal reviewer!!!**

Title: Comfort Food  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: K+

Sweating profusely, Teresa Lisbon hauled herself out of bed with a groan. Her eyes were bloodshot and she couldn't stop the chills that were ravaging her body. Staring at her mangled reflection, she dampened a washcloth and slapped it to her head before chugging a few teaspoons of cough syrup. Frowning as she took her temperature, she reached for her phone. Minelli had threatened to suspend her if she ever came in with a fever. It had something to do with not taking proper care of herself.

Her voice came out in a raspy gargle and she could imagine her boss' look of disgust as he answered the phone. After hearing two words, he cut her off and told her to go back to bed. He offered to even send Van Pelt by with some soup later that morning. She reluctantly agreed, and thanked him for his understanding when really, the only thing she could think of was crawling back under her covers. She took a moment to close all the blinds, enveloping her house in total darkness, before returning to her room.

She swore when she stubbed her toe on a pile of books on the floor. Glaring at them, she collected several pillows and blankets before dumping them unceremoniously on the couch. She half-heartedly tugged the coffee table closer and grabbed the remote. Rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, she returned with a box of tissue, a bag of cough drops, and a small glass of orange juice to add to her growing pile. Trudging back towards her room, she grabbed her thick winter socks and slipped into an oversized college sweatshirt.

With one more glare towards the evil stack of books that had clearly attacked her, she dove onto the sofa and snuggled into the warm pile of linens she had practically nested into. She turned the TV down low, popped a few cough drops in her mouth and drew the blankets over her head. Her body was aching which caused her to stretch and twist until she found the most comfortable position. With a sigh, she burrowed her face in the pillow and faded into the darkness.

She opened her eyes several hours later with a pounding headache. Rolling onto her side, she grimaced at the jumbled voices arguing on the television. Flailing around, her hand finally connected with the remote and she muted the offending sound. The noise continued. Flustered, she glanced around and noticed her someone was in her kitchen. Wiping her eyes, she sat up and jumped when Patrick Jane stuck his head into the room with a sunny smile.

"What the hell?" she mumbled with an offensive look. "How did you get in here?"

"It wasn't that difficult. You really should invest in a better security system. Are you ready for soup?" Her tired brain whirled around trying to process everything he had just said.

"You broke into my apartment?" she repeated once more with an incredulous stare.

"Meh. Semantics," he responding before ducking back into the kitchen. She groaned and fell back into her blankets once more. A huge coughing fit hit, and she reached quickly for the orange juice, almost knocking it over. Grumbling to herself, she closed her eyes once more and debated the possibility of investing in a leash or maybe a shock collar for her wayward consultant. She was going to kill Van Pelt.

A noise to her right caused her to crack an eye open unhappily. She had to hold back a startled gasp. Patrick Jane was happily standing beside her in a pink frilly apron, clutching a steaming mug of tea. She murmured something unintelligible while wriggling into a sitting position, as the herbal tea was quickly thrust in her face. She didn't know she even had chamomile tea. Sipping it softly, she closed her eyes with a soft moan. The honey was quite soothing as it ran down her throat.

Minutes later, she was staring down a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. She raised an eyebrow grumpily at the man who seemed content to rock on his heels and stare her down until she ate every drop. He just grinned, looking quite smug in his pink apron. The soup was delicious and she found herself oddly grateful for the man who had usurped her living space.

"Granny Jane will smite you if you don't finish that soup," Jane said seriously. She spluttered and reached for a napkin before looking him in the eye. She saw a slight twinkle and knew that he was teasing her. Thank God she had learned to read him.

"And what else does Granny Jane have to say?" she said between mouthfuls of soup.

"You really shouldn't be too hard on young Patrick," he responded in a high-pitched voice. She suddenly wondered if she had overdosed on cold medicine. There was no way this was happening right now. She rolled her eyes, and he quickly collected her empty dishes.

Laying back against her pillow, she could hear the water running in the kitchen and she couldn't find the strength to order him out of her apartment. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she missed the soft smile he sent in her direction as he quietly refilled her glass of orange juice. She mumbled at garbled thank you and he leaned over and softly kissed her forehead before softly exiting her house. She woke a few hours later to the sight of a pink apron carefully folded on the coffee table with a small note pinned to the front.

_-Lisbon,_

_There's another bowl of soup in the fridge. Just reheat it for 3 minutes. I also left some packets of chamomile tea on the counter._

_-Granny Jane_

Shaking her head, she allowed a small smile to cross her face. Only Jane.


	7. Turkey Day

**So, I sat down to write more of Smoke and Mirrors, but this came out instead! I love holiday fics and this one is just insane cuteness. Charlie returns! I just had to bring him back for Thanksgiving. For those of y'all who haven't read And the Mighty Will Fall, all you need to know is that Charlie is Lisbon's youngest brother and he's a sweetheart! I hope y'all enjoy this random little story. Heh!**

**I apologize for my lack of updates- I've been extremely busy with Secret Santa fics-so I won't be updating a lot over the next three weeks, but then you'll get several new fics from me all at once! YAY! Smoke should be updated later today or tomorrow! Hugs for everyone!**

**Title: Turkey Day**

**Author: Divinia Serit**

**Rating: K+**

**Notes: Jello of course! Random fluffy fic because I couldn't resist!**

Huffing in frustration, Teresa Lisbon darted through the store vowing to never shop for groceries on Thanksgiving day again. It was complete and utter mayhem. Stuffing a few cans into her basket, she quickly maneuvered past overflowing shopping carts and wayward toddlers as she headed to the bakery section. She kept a wary eye on the growing crowd in front of her that seemed to be hovering around the section of freshly baked pies as Christmas music blared obnoxiously from the hanging speakers. She took a deep breath, made a note of all the exits, and leapt into the fray.

Seconds later, she emerged triumphantly with the last two pumpkin pies. Another woman turned with an angry expression, but was quickly silenced with a glare from Lisbon and a not-so-accidental flash of the badge on her belt. The woman shut her mouth before continuing to argue over the remaining apple pies. Weaving through the speeding shopping carts, she managed to check out in record time as grumpy store clerks wished everyone a 'Happy Holiday' with a hint of annoyance.

Settling the food in the trunk of her car, she quickly took the back routes home and breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into her apartment complex. Slamming the car door shut with her hip, she managed to juggle two pumpkin pies, a container of cranberry sauce, a bag of fresh baked wheat rolls, and a jar of gravy as she made her way towards her front door. She paused and briefly wondered how she was actually going to get inside. Shifting the food in her arms, she was about to reach for her key when her door suddenly flew open.

She gasped and almost lost her balance as a small daschund wiggled between her feet as he yipped in excitement. Meeting her brother's smiling face, she quickly handed off half of her purchases and stumbled inside. Unloading the food onto the counter, she deeply inhaled the scent of the Cajun turkey that wafted throughout her small house. She knelt down and the small dog leapt into her arms obviously overjoyed to finally receive some attention. As soon as she stood up, she was engulfed in a large bear hug.

"You're early Charlie-boy!" she exclaimed as her younger brother spun her around easily. Ruffling his hair, she turned to the woman next to him and accepted another hug.

"Emma, I hope the drive was okay?" she added as she embraced her brother's wife. More pleasantries were exchanged as the small group caught up on everything that had happened since the last get-together. A bottle of wine was pulled out of some cabinet, and they happily traded stories while the oven was occupied. The sound of the doorbell startled them from their conversation, and Lisbon quickly padded towards the door to let the rest of her team in.

The Serious Crimes Unit had pulled the short straw this holiday and worked right up until a few hours ago. The younger members of her team seemed a little upset that they weren't able to travel home, and she offered to host Thanksgiving dinner for all of them. Van Pelt perked up immediately and quickly drew up a list of who would be responsible for which dish. Lisbon shook her head at the young woman's enthusiasm and offered to do the turkey. It would be nice to spend some time off-duty with her agents, and she wanted to take the time to show them how much she appreciated their hard work and loyalty.

Van Pelt smiled as she entered and wished everyone a happy holiday. The redhead's enthusiasm was contagious, and Lisbon smiled back at her youngest agent. Rigsby handed her a bottle of expensive wine and quickly followed Van Pelt to the kitchen to drop off the casserole dishes. Cho came through the door next holding a large plate of sliced ham and quickly headed towards the kitchen. Jane entered next and handed her a large bouquet of fall flowers. She blushed slightly and raised an eyebrow at the surprise gesture as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Lisbon," he said softly before moving past her. Charlie grinned at her bewildered expression as she quickly turned and locked the door before waving everyone out of the kitchen and into the living room. The team was pleased to see Charlie once more, having briefly met him during an intense case previously and greeted Emma warmly.

Lisbon stood in her kitchen and leaned against the counter watching happily as her family interacted. Van Pelt immediately took control of the remote and switched from the Macy's parade to the football game and soon had everyone participating in bets and heckling Rigsby who seemed to be the only fan of the other team. Turning towards the oven, she grabbed a pair of potholders and went to remove the turkey. She carefully eased the roasted bird out of the oven and onto the counter and was surprised to see Jane watching her from the doorway with a soft smile.

"What?" she asked self consciously as she brushed her hair behind her ears. Jane came up behind her and brushed her side as he reached for the electric carving knife.

"Nothing," he replied as he eyed the turkey dangerously. Lisbon rolled her eyes and plucked the knife out of his hand, which only made him chuckle. "Don't trust me, Agent Lisbon?" he whispered, letting his lips lightly brush against her ear. She shivered, and glared at him while trying to hide her smile.

"I don't trust you with a spoon," she retorted. "I'm sure you'd find some way to hurt yourself."

The group in the living room tried not to react as the listened to the playful banter of their boss and the consultant. Charlie just grinned as his wife glared at him and nonverbally ordered him to not mess with his older sister. Exchanging knowing looks they turned their attention back to the game until Lisbon announced that everything was ready. Rigsby stammered as he quietly pulled out two salt and pepper shakers shaped like Pilgrims and sat them on the table.

"We've had these for as long as I can remember," he said. "It's just not Thanksgiving without them!"

Jane was surprisingly accepting as Van Pelt blessed the food. Dishes of green beans, hash brown casserole, butternut squash, and stuffing were passed around and the table quickly descended into silence as everyone began to eat. Seconds were served and everyone laughed as Prince made his way around the table humping everyone's legs. Charlie looked extremely embarrassed as he fussed at his dog then surreptitiously offered him a small piece of turkey.

After everyone had eaten until they felt slightly sick they retired back to the living room as Lisbon proceeded to clean up the dishes. She waved off the offers of help, reminding everyone that she had invited them over and it was their turn to relax. Filling up the sink, she wasn't all that surprised to see that Jane had disobeyed her order and proceeded to carry in the remaining dishes from the table. They continued to clean in pleasant silence, their fingers brushing occasionally as more dishes were piled into the sink.

Jane glanced back towards the living room only to notice that the entire group seemed to be nodding off or engrossed in the game. Turning back to Lisbon, he continued to watch as she gracefully put everything back in its proper place. It felt nice- watching her putter around the kitchen after a big family meal. It felt strangely domestic and he longed to tell the woman in front of him just how thankful he was that she had found her way into his life.

She could feel his eyes studying her and she wondered just what was going through his mind. Finishing the dishes, she dried her hands before turning towards him with a questioning gaze. He looked lost in thought, so she grabbed the whipped cream from the refrigerator and grabbed some plates for the pie. She jumped when she felt his hand on her waist and she turned around to face him. He was closer than she thought which caused her breath to quicken- a fact she was sure he noticed.

"Thank you," he said softly. Her eyes widened as she stared at the man in front of her. Jane was always polite, but he rarely made an effort to verbally thank her. She knew he appreciated everything she did for him, and she was fine with the quiet understanding that passed between them. He looked a little unsure of her as she stared at him in silence, and she made a snap decision. Digging her finger into the whipped cream, she quickly adorned his nose with the sugary substance.

He stared at her in shock as he tried to look at his nose which only made him look cross-eyed. She giggled louder. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was being around family-she wasn't sure what it was, but it just felt right.

"You're welcome," she said as she leaned into him.

"See if I bring you flowers anymore," he teasingly replied as he swiped some of the whipped cream and wiped it on her cheek.

The sound of a throat being cleared caused them both to whirl around as a camera flash went off. Charlie stood grinning at their shocked expressions as they took in each other's appearances. Lisbon stuttered and tried to protest that it wasn't what it looked like before chasing after her brother who held the camera high above her head. The others just grinned at their boss' carefree attitude as she launched herself at her brother. Things might not be perfect in the world today, but they had a lot to be thankful for.


	8. Salvation

**Fanfiction is broken... :( Reviews, updates, and notifications aren't working, but I promise I'll reply to all soon! Dreams will be updated later today and hopefully I'll finish another chapter of Monochromatic tonight! YAY**

Title: Salvation  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Prompt: "Shhh, you hear that? Those are the winds of change."  
A/N: Written for I heart Thursdays (Lea loves Thursdays) for the JelloForever Secret Santa exchange.

"_**I want a reason for the way things have to be.I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me.**_

_**And I'm calling all angels."**_

_**-Calling All Angels, Train**_

Ding-a-ling-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling.

An older woman wearing a red coat lined with white fur stood hunched over a small black kettle, while her Santa hat slipped to one side. Her brass bell echoed throughout the streets, but the majority of passers-by refused to meet her eye. Instead they huddled deeper in their coats, walking quickly by while feigning interest in their cell phones or other various articles contained in their shopping bags. Shifting the bag of pastries and drink carrier over to her left hand, Teresa Lisbon dug deep into the pocket of her jeans and unfurled a crumpled five dollar bill. With a pleasant expression, she slipped the bill into the kettle and the woman offered a thankful smile in return.

Turning down the next block, she flashed her ID at the security checkpoint, and headed up the stairs. Pushing the door open with her hip, she headed straight for the bullpen. Twinkling lights decorated the banister, and the fresh scent of pine wafted through the halls. Minelli decreed long ago that a live tree would be set up in the main entrance every Christmas. Each year, the theme changed and every agent contributed an ornament. On Christmas Eve, they would pack up the tree and decorations and one unit would take them down to the nearby children's hospital and dress as elves to pass presents to the children. This year, it was her unit's turn. Blowing a strand of hair from her face, she ignored the surprised looks from her agents as she set the food on an empty desk and passed out the warm beverages.

"And her heart grew three sizes that day," Jane announced in a deeper voice than usual as he mimicked the popular children's story. Rigsby stifled a laugh, while Lisbon shot a stern glare in his direction.

"I will withhold your tea," she threatened. His smile grew bigger.

"There's my favorite little Grinch," he responded cheekily as she bit back a growl. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, dropped the Styrofoam cup of tea in the trashcan, and casually entered her office without another word.

Jane stood frozen by Cho's desk, not knowing quite what to do. His grin curved in delight at her unexpected reaction. He loved that about her. She was the only one who could keep him on his toes. Yes, he told her she was translucent, and granted, he considered himself rather skilled at reading her intentions, but there was still a part of Teresa Lisbon that was a mystery. It kept him guessing, and he liked the feeling of having someone see through his tricks and call his bluff. And if it pushed him that little bit harder to get to know her better, then so be it.

Jane brushed past Cho who was softly humming the opening bars of 'You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch' much to the delight of Rigsby and Van Pelt. Walking after her quickly, he stood in the door frame and waited for her to acknowledge him. She didn't. Shutting the door behind him, he perched on the edge of her desk and lightly drummed his fingers on the wooden frame until she looked up with a scowl. He just grinned back at her and watched as she opened her mouth, most likely to tell him off once more. He was saved by the phone.

He made no move to leave her office while she conversed with the other person, much to her annoyance. Rolling her eyes, she swiveled her chair towards her calendar and quickly began to flip through pages. He took a moment to really look at her while she wasn't paying attention. He noticed a light dusting of freckles spread across her cheekbones, her hair lightly brushing her shoulders. Her lips pouted as she listened to the tireless person on the other line, and he chuckled at her frustration over her lack of ability to get a word in. Eventually, she hung up the phone with a roll of her eyes and took a long sip of her drink before setting her gaze back on him.

"Can I help you?" she asked sarcastically, wondering why the man didn't just get to the point.

"You have whipped cream on…" he trailed off as he gestured to her mouth with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes and she froze when he suddenly leaning in toward her. Warily she watched his hand approach her face, and she held in a breath as he gently wiped his thumb across her upper lip. Parting her lips, she let out a surprised gasp at the slight tremble of his fingers. His eyes darkened and he quickly pulled his hand away as if he hadn't been aware of his actions. Neither moved, and they continued to stay locked in an impromptu staring contest. She swallowed deeply, not quite sure how to break the moment that settled between them.

The sound of her door opening startled them both as they sprung apart from each other. Rigsby had the decency to look apologetic as he handed her a letter that had just been faxed in. The taller agent quickly exited the office not bothering to be dismissed, and a wry smile crossed her face at the junior agent's erratic behavior. Jane remained perched on the corner of her desk while she quickly skimmed the letter. Folding the paper, she shoved it to the side and rose from her chair. Slipping into her jacket, she grabbed her scarf and keys, then looked over her shoulder at Jane.

"You coming?" she asked with a smirk as Jane jumped up and followed at her heels. They left the other agents with a few instructions before darting off into the chilly afternoon.

"Shhh!" Cho said once Lisbon and Jane had left. Rigsby and Van Pelt look at the Asian agent with a startled intensity as he looked around the office suspiciously. "You hear that?" he asked while leaning closer to Rigsby. The other agents eyed the office warily before turning back to Cho.

"Those are the winds of change!" Cho said with a chuckle. The other two agents groaned before returning to their paperwork.

Meanwhile, Jane and Lisbon slipped through swerving pedestrians while trying to avoid swinging shopping bags depicting the likeness of Rudolph, Frosty, and other holiday characters. Even with her short stature, Jane had to hurry to keep up with Lisbon's brisk walking pace. Staring at the line of her coat, he almost ran into her when she skidded to a stop in front of the small children's hospital that was only located a few blocks from Headquarters.

"Stay here," she said, fixing him with a stern gaze after they had entered the lobby. She headed towards the nurses' station and within a few minutes she had disappeared down another hallway. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes, when a colorful pile of boxes off to the side caught his eye. His eyes slid sideways, and within a moment his feet carried him to the boxes.

Teresa Lisbon sighed as she copied down the details of the Christmas Eve party. The hospital director had wanted to meet in person to finalize the Christmas plans. Lisbon knew the kids would be thrilled with the gifts and decorations, and thankfully there wasn't that much left to do. Trading handshakes and kind words, Lisbon headed back towards where she left Jane. She honestly hadn't planned to be that long and she didn't get a chance to drag Jane with her before she was whisked off. She had planned to take Jane along with her to help transport lights, ornaments, and other various knick-knacks.

Re-entering the lobby, Lisbon slid to a stop and looked from side to side. Patrick Jane was nowhere to be found. Counting to ten, she took a deep breath, and glanced at her watch. He had only been out of her sight for ten minutes, so he couldn't have gotten far. Grumbling, she wondered why he couldn't just do what he was told for once. She checked her pockets to make sure he hadn't lifted her keys. Still there. Walking outside, she caught a flash of blond hair above her. Whirling around, she was surprised to see Jane on a ladder climbing to the roof of the building with an arm full of inflatable characters.

Raising a hand above her eyes, she tried to hide a grin when a skinny Frosty the Snowman waved at her. A few minutes later, Frosty had fattened up and Rudolph was starting to shape up beside him. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she watched as Rudolph got fatter and fatter. Frowning, she stood on her toes and tried to catch Jane's eye.

"Um, Jane? I think Rudolph's good," she shouted. There was a muffled response, but the reindeer continued to grow in height and in girth.

"JANE?!"

"The knob broke off!" a faint voice cried from above.

THWAP! Lisbon watched horrified as Rudolph took flight a week early. The red nose was the last piece to deflate as the brown reindeer landed in a puddle at her feet. Looking up, she met Jane's gaze as he peeked out from behind Frosty. She continued to stare open mouthed at the doe-eyed puddle of plastic. What was the proper reaction to have when a beloved Christmas figure was practically murdered in front of you? She gingerly reached down and picked up the deflated reindeer with a snort.

"You killed Rudolph!" a small voice shouted from behind her. Lisbon turned around to see a small boy who looked remarkably like Jane staring at her with an accusatory expression. He pointed his finger directly at her.

"She killed Rudolph!" Groaning, Lisbon quickly tried to hide the poor deer while looking around for Jane who had, of course, disappeared again.

"He's just had a small malfunction," she replied to the boy. "A trip to the...uh…vet, and he'll be as good as new."

The boy eyed her suspiciously before nodding once and running off. Lisbon let out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. The last thing she needed was a horde of screaming children threatening to beat her for killing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Massaging her temple, she marched back to her car with Rudolph in tow where she spotted a familiar blond head of hair waiting for her.

"I hate you," she glowered while she slipped into the driver's seat.

"My, my, look who's grumpy today," Jane replied with his trademark grin.

"Bah Humbug," she muttered much to Jane's amusement.

"Drive on, Scrooge-ette!" His comment was met with a resounding smack courtesy of the woman driving.

As they drove, Jane watched the brunette out of the corner of his eye. A small smile danced across her lips as she mouthed the words to the Christmas music on the radio. She would occasionally shift her weight in time to the music, and he wondered if she was conscious of her dancing. She reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face, and their eyes briefly locked. Flushing slightly, she turned her attention back to the road ahead, and he went back to watching her. He wondered how long they were going to dance around each other, before one of them found the courage to make a move. She didn't linger in the parking lot once they arrived back at the CBI Headquarters, and he found himself following her up the stairs once more. Not that it was a bad view, mind you. Smiling to himself, he reached forward to hold the door open, and she shot him an amused grin.

"How was you errand?" Van Pelt asked pleasantly when they entered the bullpen. Lisbon and Jane exchanged a quick glance before she snorted. The others watched in amusement as their normally reserved boss broke down into a fit of coughing as she tried to hold in her laughter. Once she composed herself, she smirked at her team.

"Jane killed Rudolph."

"Sacrilege," Cho responded at the same time Van Pelt expressed her outrage.

"Meh," Jane replied with a shrug as he plopped down onto his couch. "It was an honest miscalculation of air." Rigsby's mouth dropped open.

"You blew up Rudolph?" he exclaimed as the pieces started to connect. Jane shot him a dirty look before closing his eyes in an attempt to take a nap. He was quickly prodded awake by Rigsby who was still enthralled with the explosion of an inflatable reindeer.

Lisbon smirked as she heard Rigsby question Jane with a mixture of awe and horror. Flipping through her files, she took a moment to watch her team through her office window. As hard as she tried to keep herself closed off, each one of them had wormed their way into her heart. She would do anything to protect them from harm. It was funny, she mused. Her rag tag team each needed saving- whether it be from their past, their family, or even themselves. Each broken piece fit perfectly, and together they were each other's salvation. Christmas was about family, and she was determined to make this one, the best one yet. As the strains of Cho humming another Christmas song filtered through her door, she grinned. She just had to keep Jane from blowing up any more reindeer, and everything would be fine. Just then, a loud bang sounded outside her door. Burying her head in her hands, she groaned. That was easier said than done.


	9. Sway

**Title: Sway  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: K+**

**A/N: Secret Santa present for CelticGina; The song is Sway by Dean Martin. This is my first Rigsby/Van Pelt story and it was a lot harder than I thought! Hope y'all enjoy it! Thanks to tromana for betaing!**

* * *

Her long red hair was held back from her face with a green silk ribbon. Loose strands fell past her shoulders with a faint curl, swaying softly with each step. She hadn't bothered to straighten it completely this morning; she was running late enough as it was. Hanging her garment bag containing her work clothes on a piece of pipe that extended from the wall, she dropped her gym bag in the corner of the empty room. She had realized shortly after starting at the CBI that few agents used the fitness facility before work, and the few that did puttered around on the squeaky treadmills. No one ever ventured towards the back room which had since been turned into an informal storage area.

She had spent one morning reorganizing the room for her purpose. Exercise mats were stacked on one side of the room and a few spare weights had been shoved in a box in the corner. She had done the same with various spare parts that had been laying around. A row of mirrors lined one wall of the room, and she assumed its previous use had been for group classes - perhaps self defense or even weight building. Plugging in her portable CD player, she fumbled through her bag for the CD she kept with her. Sliding it into the player, she turned the volume up and started to stretch. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the music as she settled into her morning routine.

_When marimba rhythms start to play_

_Dance with me, make me sway_

When she was a little girl she wanted to be a ballerina. She had begged her momma and daddy for dancing lessons, but they just didn't have the extra money to spare. She had cried and cried, and the next day, her daddy brought home a pair of gently used ballet slippers he had bought from a coworker. Her mother had to re-stitch the soles, but Grace was ecstatic. She had leaped and twirled throughout the house for weeks, flinging her arms about her, no longer caring that she was unable to take lessons. It had been the one feminine activity she had taken interest in and her mother had been thrilled. Laughing, the two of them would dance through the house when no one else was there, and the living room became their biggest stage.

Eventually, she began to grow by leaps and bounds and her flat, young body started to mature into a beautiful young woman. Her father smiled proudly as she switched from dancing to athletics. She traded her tutu for a softball glove, and found her long legs more suited for running. Her movements still contained a dance like quality to them, even while she leapt into the air to catch a fly ball. Her priorities shifted, and the ballet slippers found a home in a box in her closet, where they started to gather dust. She still retained her love of music and dancing, but she enjoyed the success she obtained on the field. She became her daddy's girl through and through, and her mother shook her head as her little dancing queen sat knee to knee with her father discussing the newest football plays.

_When we dance you have a way with me_

_Stay with me, sway with me _

Her mind drifted back to the moment at hand and her muscles felt warm and ready. She stripped off her shirt, leaving her clad in a simple black sports bra and grey yoga pants. Slipping off her shoes, she extended her leg out to the side before throwing herself into the music. Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror and a small smile would cross her face as she flew across the room, her hair whipping around her face. It felt like the rhythm was coursing through her body as she closed her eyes and let her body flow. The tempo changed and she felt her self slow naturally, moving into a more lyrical technique. Her muscles tightened and relaxed as she extended her body, and she enjoyed the slight burning feeling she felt as her body worked. There was something about dancing that just made her feel so alive.

College had given her a second chance to rekindle her childhood passion when she found out they offered dance as part of the health and wellness curriculum. She was a quick learner and had no trouble moving through the levels thanks to her athletic and flexible body, toned from years of early morning workouts. She threw herself into every class and soaked up the standard forms and steps, loving every minute of it. She loved being able to express herself, to let out all her emotions in a simple art form. It was something she continued throughout the Academy. Other officers went to the firing range to blow off steam, she turned on her music and let herself fly.

_I can hear the sound of violins_

_Long before it begins_

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the figure that stood frozen in the doorway. Wayne Rigsby gulped as he watched Grace float around the room in front of him. She moved with effortless ease and he couldn't take his eyes off of her as she poured herself into her performance. He knew that she always arrived early - she beat him every morning in fact - but he never realized what she actually spent her time doing. He had swung by early to borrow some extra weights the center manager said he could use, but he was distracted by the soft sound of music filtering through the door. He was astounded at what he saw in the room, and although he knew he should leave Grace to her dancing, he was frozen. He just hoped she wouldn't kill him when she noticed him.

The music ended and he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Their eyes connected in the reflection of the mirror and she let out a startled gasp. Stumbling, she whirled around to face him while opening and closing her mouth in a gaping expression. Her cheeks were flushed and his eyes betrayed him by darting down towards her exposed stomach. She huffed indignantly and his eyes immediately snapped back to her face. He swallowed hard and flushed bright red, fumbling for the correct words as her eyes narrowed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tapped her foot impatiently, and waited for him to explain himself.

"I…uh… you dance?" he asked before mentally slapping his forehead. Of course she danced, idiot! She had obviously been dancing around the room directly in front of you. Rigsby made a face at his error, before running a hand through his air. Fidgeting, he wasn't sure if he should open his mouth again. Obviously, it only got him into trouble. Grace raised an eyebrow obviously amused at his discomfort and let out a soft snort.

"I took lessons in school," she responded evenly. Although she didn't show it, she was amused at Rigsby's behavior. The poor guy never seemed to be able to hold it together when he was in front of her. It was strangely endearing.

He caught a brief twinkle in her eye and knew she wasn't mad at him for interrupting. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He wondered why he felt so off-balance in front of this woman. For some reason, he couldn't seem to take the lead and instead found himself stumbling backwards while Van Pelt led on. Maybe he should just stick to the hokey pokey and he would do better. He had already made a fool out of himself anyway. Unfortunately, he was no Fred Astaire and he found himself flailing and devastatingly uncoordinated in her presence. She raised an eyebrow obviously waiting for him to continue.

"Would you… like to grab a quick breakfast," he rushed while stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. She smiled warmly, and bent down to retrieve her shirt from the floor. His eyes followed her every movement and he flushed once more when she caught his eye knowingly. He stammered once more before Grace cut him off with a small smile.

"I'd love to," she replied softly before grabbing her gym bag. "Let me get cleaned up. I'll meet you outside in say, twenty minutes?" she offered, putting him out of his misery for having to formulate another plan. He beamed back at her and agreed.

As he watched her walk out, a soft smile crossed his face. Grinning, he headed to the main entrance passing Cho on his way in. Not paying attention, Rigsby slipped on a wet part of the floor barely catching himself in time. Cho smirked at the tall agent, who quickly scrambled upright.

"Nice going, twinkle toes," Cho stated before brushing past the arson expert.

Rigsby glared at his friend, before continuing his journey outside allowing his thoughts to drift back to Grace once more. They were involved in a dance of their own, quiet and seductive, each balancing the other perfectly. He seemed to instinctively know how to counter her moves and hold her close and when to let her shine on her own. Whistling, he unlocked his car and decided he was going to have to start coming in early more often. After all, some dances needed a partner.

_Make me thrill as only you know how_

_Sway me smooth, sway me now_

_You know how_

_Sway me smooth, sway me now_


	10. Southern Living

**Title: Southern Living  
****Author: Divinia Serit  
****Rating: T  
****Prompt: New Beginnings, Jello Forever January Challenge**

**A/N: I took the prompt quite literally! This is an AU oneshot, but it's the same Jane and Lisbon we already know. I've just moved them to Georgia, so I could write ridiculously Southern and elaborated on their first meeting! Most of these situations have actually happened to me, and I'm not exaggerating. Welcome to the South. Hope y'all enjoy!**

Grocery stores could be dangerous places. Just last week, old Mrs. Higgins had nearly been taken out by Mrs. Johnson for the last two for one special on cornbread at the local Piggly Wiggly. The very same day, Mr. Leonard had tripped over a wayward yeast roll in the bakery and the poor man was taken away in an ambulance. It was the most excitement the little town had seen in quite some time. Well, except for the time a few of the high school football players left the rival team mascot tied up to the flag pole with his undies peeking out for the whole blooming world to see. That had been front page news worthy for days. That and the Labor Day Special on oddly shaped vegetables. People still talked about the bell pepper shaped like a 'male genny-talia' as the farmer who brought it in called it.

Needless to say, it was impossible to predict who you might bump into next to the bins of fresh green beans or fight with over the last apple pie. Each of which were dangerous places to find yourself in. Nothing, however, could have prepared Teresa Lisbon for the man she bowled over while on the hunt for the specially priced box of Fruit Loops. Knowing what she knew now, she'd be sure to instruct her grandmother to add 'Stay away from men in three piece suits holding jars of spaghetti sauce' to her phrases of wisdom. This little jewel belonged right up there with 'Always eat collards, cornbread, and black-eyed peas for New Years' and 'Be sure to keep a funeral casserole in the freezer'.

She had seen him as soon as he walked into the store. After all, Armani didn't exactly blend in with denim and scuffed boots. Perfect blond curls and skin with a sun kissed glow only meant one thing in these parts. Salesman. High dollar, most likely cotton-picking crazy-dishonest, weasel into your life savings, salesman. Bless his heart, the poor boy probably couldn't help the fact that he was a dirty, rotten scoundrel. Bless his heart - a phrase in itself that seemed to preface every insult. After all, if the heart was sufficiently blessed, how bad could the insult be? So while the other woman whispered to each other, giggling coquettishly, she turned back to the canned vegetable aisle and grabbed another can of maple sugar baked beans. Squeaking down the aisle- of course she had managed to grab the one buggy with a bad wheel- she turned down the next row without looking, and was startled by a loud crash.

The poor man lay there, dripping with spaghetti sauce, as a broken jar lay nearby. Eyes wide in shock, she pressed a hand to her mouth to hold in the fit of giggles that threatened to escape as a can of peas rolled by her foot. Grandma always did say she had inappropriate reactions in situations like these. Not that she often found herself staring at a stranger wearing Armani with a garnish of tomato and basil. She supposed she should have been annoyed at the interruption which would only delay the rest of her day, but there was something about the man that just made her want to smile back. Well, either that or chuck another jar of sauce at him. Reining in her merriment, she extended a hand and a string of apologies to the man staring at her with a bemused expression.

"I should have known to keep an eye out for pretty women with violent grocery shopping tendencies," he replied back with a smirk. He watched as the petite brunette in front of him flushed in embarrassment. His comment sent her into another fit of apologies which he was determined to end.

"I'm Jane. Patrick Jane." She raised an eyebrow as she hauled him to his feet. A swift look of surprise crossed his face at the unexpected source of strength coming from the woman.

"As in shaken or stirred?" she asked with a faint eye roll. She could feel the charm oozing off of him, and she tried to hide her annoyance. What was it with men that made them think a smile and a kind word was all it took to get in your pants. Well, she wasn't that kind of woman. She'd continue to be polite, but that would be the end of it.

"I think it's been shaken enough," he added with a downwards glance towards the sauce. He mentally began to backpedal as the intercoms sprang to life. He could tell his normal charm wouldn't work on this woman and he was curious as to why.

_"Clean up on Aisle 4. Clean up on Aisle 4."_

"Teresa Lisbon," she finally answered with a faint drawl. Wiping her hands on her pants, she grabbed a list from her purse and turned back to her cart. "Are you sure I can't pay for that?" she added with a look back towards Jane, her hair lightly bouncing away from her face. He fought the urge to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. He just met her, for crying out loud.

He shook his head, sending drops of tomato sauce flying. At that moment, they were accosted by overly helpful workers determined to make the most of their minimum wage pay. After all, a man in an Armani suit might offer a hefty tip. Damp cloths were thrust in his face, and he could only watch as the brunette left the aisle. Pushing the towels away, he grabbed his basket of boxed noodles and frozen dinners and practically sprinted after her, his mind racing a mile a minute. He had to think of a plan.

Skidding to a stop, he cursed his ridiculousness as he leaned around the next aisle. She wasn't there. His pace quickened as he passed each remaining aisle, and he quickly scanned the checkout lines. She couldn't have just vanished. Pushing past an oversized woman wearing a too small shirt reading 'Foxy Momma' juggling a screaming toddler, he continued to look for the brunette. There. She was standing on the tips of her toes, reaching for an item on the highest shelf. Her shirt rose as she stretched, exposing a hint of skin near her waistband. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself before casually walking down the aisle grabbing a few items here and there for good measure.

"Are you following me?" she asked with a hint of annoyance. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the man in front of her. He feigned surprise, and shrugged.

"Not at all," he said smoothly. She continued to glare, and he began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

"If I were extra heavy, I'd go with a different brand," she said with a raised eyebrow as she gestured toward the item in his hand. It was only then that he realized he was holding a box of tampons. Stuttering, he quickly shoved the box back on the shelf and backed away. She continued to stare at him with an amused expression, when the shrill ring of a cell phone interrupted.

"Lisbon," she answered with an air of authority.

She listened intently, responding with a few words here and there, and she made her way towards the milk ignoring him the entire time. He gave up on trying to be suave and sneaky, and padded along behind her towards the dairy products. Listening carefully, he tried to glean a few more details about the mystery of a woman beside him. Granted, he was new to this town and judging by the amount of time the bureau passed him along from agent to agent, he doubted he'd be in Georgia for long.

"How long have you lived here?" he asked nonchalantly when she hung up the phone.

She huffed in frustration and brushed past him in order to grab a half gallon of skim milk. The man didn't know when to quit. She could feel the annoyed stares of several other women, and she knew this latest gossip would be around town before supper time. She had mere hours before she could expect a call from Granny asking if she would bring the handsome stranger from the Piggly Wiggly home for a home cooked meal served with sugar shocked sweet tea made with enough sugar to cause diabetes in the southern half of the United States. She could smell the fried chicken already.

"A long time," she responded shortly. Sure she was raised to be polite, but that didn't mean she had to respond to every whim and question this infuriating man asked. It was only the remnants of tomato sauce clinging to his jacket that kept her from completely blowing him off and leaving the store without her purchases.

He nodded, then ran a hand through his hair. He was at a loss as to what else to say. Grabbing a carton of chocolate milk, he continued to walk beside her. Her shoulders were stiff with tension, but a small smile played across her lips. She began to speed up and he noticed she was headed for the lone cashier. He knew that if she got their first, he would lose her for good as soon as she paid the woman. His eyes slid over to her, and he matched her pace. A look of steely determination flickered in her eyes, and her cart nosed ahead.

_Squeak…. squeak…squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. _

He would have chuckled at the picture they made if he hadn't been so determined to win. The finish line was in sight, the checkout line was empty and the cashier was holding a frozen pizza in wide-eyed shock as she caught sight of the two of them. It happened in slow motion. He saw Lisbon's eyes widen in surprise as she skidded to a stop to avoid the bakery cart that seemed to appear out of nowhere. He wasn't so lucky. Half-priced pastries went flying as the metal cart screeched and fell on its side. The store froze in stunned silence as Jane casually picked himself up off the floor and approached the cashier as if nothing had happened.

_Squeak…. Squeak…Squeak._

Lisbon quietly got in line behind him and ignored the death glare the cashier shot the two of them. Biting her tongue, she tried to hide the smile that threatened to explode. The poor cashier, bless her heart, probably hadn't seen this much excitement since the day a centimeter of snow sent everyone from a 10 mile radius here to stock up on bread, toilet paper, and duct tape. Tipping the bagger generously, she quickly walked out of the store and almost ran smack-dab into Patrick Jane who reached out and steadied her with a smile.

"Is this how you treat everyone you meet?" he asked with a grin. "Or is it just my lucky day?"

"Well, considering you've probably gotten both of us banned from the only grocery store in town, I can safely say it's your lucky day," she said with a growl. His grin faded slightly, and he reached out to touch her arm.

"I am sorry," he added softly. She sighed at his remorseful expression. Closing her eyes, she counted to five to help calm herself down. Maybe he would be gone when she opened her eyes. She cracked open one eyelid and exhaled. No such luck.

"Okay, so I'm assuming you're new in town. Is there anything I can do for you? Show you?" She asked.

"The Cracker Barrel has the best cheese grits in town, and yes you say it with a capital T. It's a sign of respect. Watch out for the cow crossing on Old Troupe Road. Ben Garrett is having fencing problems. There's a Wal-Mart about 30 minutes away, but other that that there's just a few local shops nearby." She took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye. "Now I'm late for work. It was nice to meet you, and maybe I'll see you around."

And with that final goodbye, she climbed into her SUV, and drove off leaving Jane standing by an empty parking space. Watching her tail lights disappear in a cloud of dust, he shook his head with a grin. Okay, so he had several bags full of items he had no use for, and he never got her number, but he did have her name. And in a town this small, someone would know how to get in touch with her. Throwing his purchases into the passenger seat of his baby blue Citroen, he headed home. He had just enough time to change clothes before heading towards Decatur for his meeting.

* * *

Teresa Lisbon inhaled the sweet scent of her iced mocha as she sunk into her leather chair. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the stranger she met during her lunch hour, and she wondered what he was doing in town. He obviously worked in Atlanta, and maybe he enjoyed living in peaceful suburbia like herself. She didn't mind the 45 minute commute most days, and if she was needed nearby, she'd just crash at the Howard Johnson's. After all, they did offer a nice complimentary breakfast with punch-out menus that you could wear as a hat. Who didn't want that in a hotel? That was quality service right there.

Finishing her coffee, she headed to her boss' office a few minutes early for a special meeting he had called earlier. He didn't sound angry, so she assumed it was another new case or maybe it dealt with the serial killer that was plaguing the peaceful state. Opening the door, she froze when she caught sight of the man inside. Wearing a clean Armani suit and smiling a charming smile was Mr. Patrick Jane himself. Forcing herself to breath, she plastered a smile on her face and turned to her boss.

Thirty minutes later, she practically bolted out of the office with a brand-new consultant on her heels. It was just her luck, and Granny was going to have a fit. 'It must be fate!' She could already hear the elderly woman shouting while praising good for blessing her granddaughter with a handsome man with more issues than _Southern Living_ to make beautiful babies with. Babies were all Granny could think about these days. Groaning, she raided her emergency chocolate stash, when Jane burst through her door.

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" she asked with a glare. Jane just grinned.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm fixing dinner for the team tonight- sort of as a get-to know-you gathering," he said pleasantly. He was amused at the various emotions that danced across the brunette's face, before she finally narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"The spaghetti will be ready at seven pm," he called over his shoulder with a smirk.

He chuckled to himself, when her heard a faint stream of foul language fall from the senior agent's mouth. He'd be sure to hide the remaining jars of sauce just in case Lisbon was feeling particularly violent. You never could tell with women. Sinking down into an old couch that had been moved off to the side, he grinned. Georgia may be more interesting than he thought.


	11. Missing

**Wow. So, this is quite an interesting little oneshot. Twin gave me the prompt: "Missing Persons-You've been reported missing" after she heard it on television. I, of course, had to write it, but it was really difficult to come up with a plausible explanation. It kind of turned into crazy babble. Eh, if it makes you giggle at some point, it's done its job! Don't take it seriously! I debated whether or not to actually post it, but I figured, maybe it'll make someone else laugh! *shakes head* If you have a better idea for the prompt, feel free to write it! It's harder than it looks! Anyways, I'll be updating Monochromatic next! YAY! (Hopefully in a day or so) Homework keeps getting in the way! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!**

Title: Missing  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: K  
Genre: Humor/ Crack!fic

The task was daunting. It loomed in front of her begging to be completed with thoughtful consideration. She was tough. She could do this. For goodness sake, she was a cop. A single sheet of notebook paper should not affect her so intensely. Mustering her courage, Teresa Lisbon narrowed her eyes and took a bite of a jelly donut instead. Grabbing a pen, she marked off the first item on the list. After all, with Rigsby around it was impossible to eat healthier. She smiled. The thick black line marring her neat handwriting was immensely satisfying. Chewing on the sugary lump of fried dough, she marked off the next few items on her list as well. Cutting back on caffeine was just asking for a murder to happen, and Jane would most likely be the lucky victim. And it wasn't like she needed to work out more. Chasing after Jane had drastically reduced her waistline.

After washing down the donut with a gulp of semi-flat Diet Coke -most definitely not caffeine free- she turned her attention to the window. Hypnotized, she watched the tiny droplets of water trail down the dirty glass. There was something mesmerizing about the rain. The consistent plink of water hitting the roof lulled her into a state of meditation, a feeling of security. The sound of screeching tires echoed from the parking lot below. Sighing, the spell was broken and Teresa Lisbon turned back to her computer, pushing aside her list for the next few moments to type her thoughts on the latest complaint Jane had racked up. The man had broken a display of marbles, and she groaned as she recalled the damage that followed. Some things never changed, and at least this time, they were able to spin his latest escapade in a positive light. Marbles- the new home security system: Break a jar and send that robber rolling!

Her eyes drifted back toward the window, and she grinned as two joggers clutching umbrellas hurried past. Apparently, the sudden storm didn't deter this overweight couple bent on keeping their New Year's Resolution. Even criminals seemed to take a break right after the New Year. It seemed everyone wished they could be a little better- for the month of January at least. She scoffed. She had never been one for resolutions. The idea of waiting for a new year to change for the better seemed a bit ridiculous. Self-improvements could always be made, and besides, no amount of lists and promises could force someone to change if their heart wasn't into it. But that was too serious a thought to be thinking this early in the morning. The only reason it was on her mind was due to the contagious enthusiasm of her youngest agent who was determined to hold them all accountable to at least one resolution.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts, and she called for the person to enter. Rigsby poked his head in, obviously unnerved at possibly interrupting something extremely important. She hid her grin. If only they knew how many games of Solitaire she had won while pretending to do paperwork. Appearances were everything, and she was surprised Jane hadn't caught on. Of course, the man probably already knew and was saving that little gem for future blackmail material. After assuring Rigsby she'd be out in a minute, she added one more suggestion to her list. She really could call her brothers more often.

Before she could get out of her chair, her phone rang. And if Teresa Lisbon believed in horoscopes she would have known better than to answer it. Unlisted numbers were rarely bearers of good news. Hanging up, she studied her desk with a frown. It had already been one of those days where everything had gone wrong. Alarm clock failed to go off, broken coffee maker, flat tire, the whole shebang. In fact, she had been in a surprisingly good mood considering, but she had a feeling that her day was about to get much worse. With a perplexed expression gracing her features, she headed out into the bullpen unsure of what to say. What were the odds?

"Who was on the phone?" Jane asked after cracking an eye opening and observing the senior agent's unusual stance. She looked a bit off-balance, and anything that made Lisbon seem off-balance was cause for concern.

"Missing persons," she stated before fixing Jane with a glare. "You've been reported missing." Jane opened his mouth to reply, but found himself unable to speak. This was a new situation.

"Is there something you'd like to share?" Lisbon asked the surprised man in front of her.

"Not that I know of," he trailed off. "Did you tell them you found me?"

"They're sending someone down to complete a report," Lisbon added with a wry smile. "Procedure."

"I didn't think they looked into missing adults often," Van Pelt asked with a confused expression. Her eyes repeatedly darted to Jane, almost as if she thought he was a ghost.

"Depends on the department," Rigsby answered.

"Apparently there were suspicious circumstances," Lisbon added. She could feel the headache starting already. Only Jane could get himself reported missing when he hadn't even ventured off the couch in the last two hours.

"Such as?" Jane pressed. Lisbon just rolled her eyes. "Hey! If I've been reported missing I have a right to know the circumstances."

"That's some magic trick," Cho muttered with a slightly bewildered expression. Jane glared.

"It's not like I planned to go missing," Jane added.

"You're not missing!" Lisbon growled as an middle-aged balding man was escorted into the bullpen.

"I'm here about Patrick Jane," he said timidly, glancing from person to person. Lisbon rubbed the bridge of her nose before greeting the man who introduced himself as Timothy Hale.

"I understand you have some questions for us?" she asked tiredly. The others instantly quieted and the man looked around nervously.

"When was the last time you saw Mr. Jane?"

"Two seconds ago,' she said sharply. Really, this was such a waste of taxpayer dollars. Timothy looked baffled, and quickly glanced down at his papers.

"Mr. Jane has been reported missing for over forty eight hours," he said with a slight twitch of his face.

"Well, he's right over there," Lisbon answered while pointing to the couch. Timothy turned his head, and smiled nervously when Jane waved.

"Well for the sake of procedure, I have to finish filling out this form," he added.

"Who reported Jane missing?" Lisbon interrupted before the poor man could resume his questioning.

"Anonymous tip."

"Ahh."

"What was Mr. Jane wearing when you last saw him?" Lisbon groaned and craned her neck towards the man on the couch.

"Three-piece suit, dark gray, black dress shoes, white dress shirt…" she trailed off while Timothy hurried to write everything down.

"Have you noticed Mr. Jane displaying any unusual behavior lately?" Lisbon snorted, unable to stop the unladylike noise from escaping.

"He's always unusual."

"I resent that!" Jane cried from his place on the couch.

"Any tattoos or scars?" Lisbon raised an eyebrow.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Jane said with a smirk.

"It's your disappearance," Lisbon replied grumpily. "You could at least be helpful."

"Do you know of anyone that might wish harm upon Mr. Jane?"

"Careful how you answer that, Lisbon! You don't want to implicate yourself in my mysterious disappearance," Jane chimed in once more.

"Shut up, Jane."

"See Timmy-boy. Agent Lisbon here harbors some ill will towards my wellbeing. You might want to proceed with some more directed questions." The man nodded slowly, and Lisbon glared. It was time for this charade to end.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hale, but this matter has come to an end. As you can see, Jane is alive and well, and we need to get back to work. I'm not sure if your tip was a prank or the result of mismanaged paperwork, but I appreciate your dedication."

And with that, Mr. Timothy Hale was unceremoniously escorted out of the bullpen without another word. The team stared at each other in stunned silence. This kind of a prank was unusual, even for Jane. Speaking of which, the man in question had a bemused expression dancing across his face as he locked eyes with the senior agent. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his ruffled curls, and grinned.

"I've never been reported missing before."

"Jane…." Lisbon replied in a warning tone. The blond grinned back. "If I find out you had anything to do with this-"

"You'll what? Shoot me? Throw out my tea? Take my couch?"

"All of the above," Lisbon growled as she stormed back into her office and slammed the door.

Slipping into her leather chair, she sighed. If the others hadn't had seen Timothy Hale, she would have worried it was a hallucination. Staring at her Diet Coke, she sighed. Maybe she should cut back on the caffeine. Opening a new game of Solitaire to calm her nerves, she was struck with a brilliant idea. It was the perfect resolution. Her patience and self control would improve, and it seemed quite realistic as well. She grinned while pulling out a bright green post-it note to write on. Signing it with a flourish, she taped it to her wall and sat back.

'_I will not kill Patrick Jane.'_


	12. Shantih

**Woohoo! I'm updating! :) Now that SSS is technically over, I'll be more active with my other stories! I haven't forgotten about Evergreen or the epilogue for Monochramtic... *glares at twin* Patience is a virtue! I've missed everyone, and it's great to be writing again! I still probably won't be *too* fast with updates because of my new job and summer classes. Blah. I'll do my best!**

* * *

Title: Shantih  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: T  
Beta: Tromana

A/N: Written for ch19777 for the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. Shantih is the Sanskrit word for peace. Eliot uses the phrase to close his poem, The Waste Land. For Conny. Thanks for being AWESOME.

_April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.~ T.S. Eliot (The Waste Land) _

A shrill ring in the dead of night yanked her from deep sleep. In past experiences, she knew the cacophony of sound at this hour was never a good sign. Flinging her hand across the nightstand, she felt for the familiar cool rectangle of her cell phone while lifting her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes. Grasping the phone tightly, a frown marred her pretty features as she urged her brain to make quicker connections. Before she knew what was happening, she was listening to the dull buzz of a dead tone. Sighing once in a stolen moment of annoyance, she hit the speed dial and waited for someone to answer.

Teresa Lisbon knew something wasn't quite right as she strode towards the darkened house. Of course, an urgent call from an ex-boss was sure to trigger a person's suspicion. He had said only a few words. _Get here soon. _Only a few streetlights dotted the vast blackness surrounding her. The rest of the world was peacefully asleep, blissfully ignorant of the dangers lurking outside. Her step lightened as the shadows spilled across her face. Nibbling on her bottom lip, her fingers brushed against the metal of her side arm and switched the safety off as her other hand softly rapped against the front door. Her mind ran through all the possible scenarios including a possible trap as a light flickered on inside the house.

An unreadable expression was plastered on Minelli's face as she was quickly whisked inside the dimly lit house. Nothing seemed to be wrong at first glance, but the tell-tale narrowing of his brow had her glancing around uneasily. He had only retired a few months ago, and yet he looked decades older. The strain of Red John and the fiasco with Bosco's team had taken their toll on the formidable leader of the CBI. She briefly wondered if the rumors of cancer were true. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, as he turned to face her. His lips pursed as if he was debating how to inform her of some horrible situation, and she was struck by the absurdity of the situation. Here she was, standing in her ex-boss and mentor's living room at three in the morning with absolutely no idea of what was going on.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't know what else to do with him," Minelli stated with a heavy sigh. Her heart dropped, and she knew he could only be talking about one man.

"You always said he was my responsibility," she responded before briefly resting her hand on his arm. "I'm glad you called."

A look of understanding mixed with a hint of pity crossed his face, and she stared back in silent determination. She was tired of the looks she received when ever her capricious consultant was brought up. She would do the same for any other member of her team. She shook her head to clear the nagging thoughts that suggested Jane _wasn't_ just any member of her team. There was no use entertaining thoughts of what could never be. She had learned that years ago, and the majority of the time she was okay with it. It was the good days that made it harder. The perfectly simple days with just a fleeting glance or a small gift. Those were the days when she wanted to curse life for being unfair, for giving her a spark of hope of what could have been.

They walked in silence towards a closed door, and the older man glanced briefly down at her before cracking the door open. Lisbon stifled a sharp intake of air as she studied the ragged appearance of Patrick Jane. He seemed unresponsive, content to stare off in the distance at some imaginary scene. She should have known better that to let him waltz off after his encounter with Red John. She kicked herself for letting him fool her once more into thinking everything was just fine and dandy. She took a step back and turned towards Minelli. He must have seen the questions in her eyes, because he quickly cut her off and gave her the circumstances surrounding this odd situation.

"There was a call in from Shooter's asking for help in dealing with an unruly customer who was provoking the other patrons and seemed to have little regard for his own well-being. The first officer on the scene was my son-in-law, and he immediately recognized Jane from that benefit earlier this year. He called off back-up and said the owner was misinformed and the scene was under control, before bringing him back here. He knew what a blemish like that would do on Jane's record. No one wants an unstable consultant working high-profile cases."

Minelli trailed off, and Lisbon sighed. Jane was lucky. If this got back to Hightower, there would be no question, but to suspend him or look into mental health options. Everyone knew Jane could talk his way out of treatment, and the current bureau psychologist refused to see him. Stronger consequences would be considered. Her eyes ran over his bedraggled form once more, and she wondered if she would be able to pull him back this time, or if being restrained by the serial killer had been too much for him. She faked a small smile , and turned back to Minelli.

"Thanks, Virgil. I'll take it from here," she said softly. He acknowledged her with a sad nod, and left her alone with Jane. She closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath.

"Maybe I've lost it at last," a deep voice rasped in a manner that was much too lucid to be coming from a supposedly drunk man. She clicked her tongue and walked over to the bed. Fidgeting slightly, she eventually sat on a small corner of the mattress, her hand lingering dangerously close to his own.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she softly pressed as his eyes flickered towards her. She wasn't sure how to react. He obviously didn't expect her to say anything except her normal spiel telling him to get his act together with a few threats thrown in, but this time was different. This time she was scared of pushing him farther down the self-depreciating hole he already found himself in.

"I'm thinking it's dark in here," he said morosely. The joke fell flat as she leaned over and switched on the small lamp on the nightstand.

"Jane…" she prodded once more.

"I'm tired of the game," he said after a moment of silence. "Of always coming up short, never knowing the rules, and always being just one fucking step away."

"So you thought getting piss drunk and starting bar fights was the way to handle it?" she grumbled. As soon as the words left her mouth she instantly regretted them. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh that's just great," he snapped back. "All hail the return of Agent High and Mighty Lisbon who can do no wrong!"

"I'm sorry. It's late," she said as she tried to keep her temper in check. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she counted to ten before opening her eyes once more. "Maybe we can't be okay or one hundred percent happy, but we can still try. You have to let it go, Jane."

"I can still see them," he whispered so softly that she had to strain to make out the simple sentence.

"Some ghosts are never gone, Patrick. Honor their memory by not becoming one yourself."

"Why are you here?" he responded, and she winced at the swift change in conversation. He was hot and cold, and she was tired of tiptoeing around him, tired of cleaning up after him. It was chipping away at her, and she didn't know how much more she could take.

"Why?" she asked angrily. "Damn it, Jane! What do you expect me to do? Can't you get it through your thick head that I might care?"

He stared as she paced around the small room. She was obviously on edge- it was late, and she had been trying to hold their team together single-handedly. Van Pelt and Rigsby were at odds with each other. Cho was still dealing with the aftermath of his old gang, and he was causing trouble daily. Honestly, he was surprised she had held it together this long. She would be better off without him. Free. They all would.

"You should leave," he muttered stoically before turning towards the wall.

"Go fuck yourself," she said with an edge. She plopped down on the end of the bed and crossed her arms without taking her eyes off the broken man beside her. "You told me you'd be there for me, and that promise extends both ways."

Jane grumbled inside. He felt guilty for toying with her just to get a reaction in order to make her leave. Of course she'd dig in her heels. She was stubborn. It was in her nature. And now that stubborn and angry woman was perched on the edge of the bed. Rolling back over, he met her glare not knowing what to do next. For once in his life, he had no plan. No trick to make it all magically go away. He winced when she raised an eyebrow. He'd have to make the next move. Of course, he could just let her sit there all night. She'd have to give up eventually, and maybe then she'd realize he was a waste of her time. His heart thudded painfully, and he pushed the sudden surge of emotion away. She couldn't mean anything to him. Everyone he cared about died. He looked up when the mattress dipped, and watched as she turned away. Her hair hung down, covering her face, as she walked towards the door. She reached out towards the brass handle and froze.

"Pain's the price we pay to feel, you know. Without it, we'd take happiness for granted. It wouldn't feel any different."

The door shut softly behind her. She brushed past Minelli without a word. Her ex-boss didn't have the heart to tell her that the majority of their conversation had been easily heard through the door. It's not like they were whispering. He watched with a concerned eye as her shoulders slumped while heading to her car. She looked tired, and he felt a sudden stab of guilt for the weight of the world resting on the brunette's shoulders. A few minutes passed, and he reentered the spare bedroom with a small scowl.

"You're an ass, you know," he said gruffly.

Jane looked up at him, breaking his trance from the peeling wallpaper covering the wall. Minelli sighed. At least the man was responsive. Shaking his head, Minelli cast one long look at the blond man stretched out on the bed and left. It was up to Jane. Hopefully, that would be good enough.

The next morning dawned blue skies and sunny causing Lisbon to groan as she trudged from her car to the office. She was running on four hours of sleep which was never a good thing. She was sluggish, and was honestly tempted to call in sick. There were no urgent cases, and she had plenty of unused sick days. Something prodded her to drag herself out of bed that morning. It was something to do with the forlorn expression she had seen in Jane's eyes the night before. It was like he had just given up. Turmoil raged, and she didn't know how to help him this time. When she had crawled back in bed after getting him, he fingers brushed against the gold cross encircling her neck. She did something she hadn't done in almost a year. She prayed.

Striding down the hall, she was only slightly surprised to see the empty couch in the bullpen. There was no telling where Jane was hiding or if he had even bothered to come in today. She sighed and rested her forehead against the smooth glass of her office door. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't things be simple for once? She laughed humorlessly. Since when did she believe in fairy tale endings. Bad things happened to good people. End of story. Slipping into her office, she froze when she spotted the unfamiliar object on her desk. Frowning, she flipped on the light, and allowed her lips to curl into a small smile.

A single white lily lay on her desk, resting gently on a damp paper towel. Dropping her bad, she gently picked the blossom up and ran her finger along the smooth, white petals. It was beautiful, and there was no telling where on earth it had been found at this time of year. A small card sat underneath, her name spelled out in scrawled script on the envelope. Opening it slowly, she removed a small piece of paper with a short message, and she strained to make out the almost illegible writing.

_'Thank you.'_

Setting the paper down on her desk, she shook her head and grinned. It was ridiculous how much a tiny gesture made her light up inside. A knock at the door startled her, and she quickly schooled her features back into her usual professional mask. As Van Pelt apprehensively entered with a new report, Lisbon moved the flower off to the side where it would be safe from wayward reports and empty cups of coffee. Her eyes darted to the flower once more, and she relaxed. Jane would make it through this storm a little battered, but standing nevertheless. They would be okay.


	13. A Business Proposition

**Prompts: Lisbon- Boredom (prompt 27-mentalistprompt), lemonade (JF July challenge), "It's a long story, and I only know half of it!" (The Blue Raven)**

**A/N: This oneshot originally came about as a bit of lighthearted fun for the JelloForever challenge. I struggled to make it not overly fluffy or out of character and then it took a life of it's own after being deleted and restarted three times. I was feeling rather nostalgic, so it's set pre-series, when Jane is first placed with Lisbon's team. (I miss Minelli!) The characters may seem a little rough around the edges, but remember they aren't familiar with Jane or his motives, and I doubted they all got along from the start! We know that Lisbon lives for her job and is extremely dedicated, and I think she takes pride in being a successful agent. So, I wanted to create an odd little scenario for how they end up with the Red John case. Enjoy!**

**This one is dedicated to all my loyal readers and reviewers who have kindly stuck with me during my crazy summer! I've missed you all, and thanks for being so patient!**

* * *

_A Business Proposition_

Virgil Minelli had a guilty conscience. It wasn't that he had done anything wrong, per se. He was just second guessing his latest decision. And second guessing his decisions was not something he was familiar with. Of course, a startling pair of green eyes glaring at him from across his own desk might have had something to do with this unexpected feeling of remorse. Or maybe it was doom. Brushing away his emotions, he set his mouth in a grim line and stared back at the senior agent. She matched his stare, but he refused to give in. One did not become director of the state level of federal investigation by merely giving in to disgruntled employees. Even if said disgruntled employee tended to pull on his heartstrings more than he cared to admit.

"I'll see what I can do," he said with a sigh as he gave in.

After all, the poor woman was practically drenched, and her appearance certainly made him more likely to cave in. The brunette's glare lightened and she graced him with a smile he had seen quite often on his own daughter's face after she had gotten her way. Suppressing a smile as she left his office, shoes squeaking no less, he allowed himself a quiet laugh as soon as the door was shut. Only Patrick Jane could ever rattle the brunette this much, and he would be lying if he said their interactions didn't amuse him. Not that it was his sole reason for keeping them together. He wasn't that evil, and besides they were quite a team when they weren't hell-bent on killing each other.

"So sue me! I'm only human," he muttered as he turned back to his computer.

It had been two weeks since Patrick Jane had been assigned to Teresa Lisbon. Fourteen long days full of civil suits, complaints, and disciplinary action. Of course, it hadn't helped that the consultant had managed to get himself suspended after the second day. Jane's response? Boredom. Loosening his tie, he thought back over the events of the day that had ended with a soaking wet senior agent storming into his office. He bit back a smile at the thought.

_Earlier that day…_

The sofa was empty. Teresa Lisbon gritted her teeth when her eyes locked onto the large inanimate object that was missing one very important adornment… her consultant. Not that she really wanted to claim him. She had quickly learned that an empty sofa was a bad sign and more accurate than a horoscope. A hint of prophecy seemed to swirl around the couch's occupied status that was better than a proverb. Empty sofa in the morning- Lisbon take warning. She groaned, and her fingers tightened around their newest case file. Cho gave her a strange look.

Motioning for the others to follow, she sharply replied she'd brief them on the way as she stalked towards the elevator. Taking her frustration out on the button, she pressed it with far more force than required. Seconds passed, and she pressed it again. Harder. Scowling as the doors finally swung open, the next minute seemed to happen in slow motion as she was met with a face full of lemons. She tried to take a step forward, but the laws of physics coupled with Murphy's Law dictated that after she was hit in the face by falling citrus, she would manage to slip on a wayward fruit. Catching herself on the wall, the citrus-wielding suspect wasn't quite so lucky as he stared at her from the floor with those unmistakable blue eyes.

"Somebody has her panties in a twist," he said with a smirk as she stared down at him with a glare. Rigsby chose to make himself scarce and take the stairs, while Cho just raised an eyebrow at the mention of their boss's unmentionables.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Rescuing lemons in distress," he responded flippantly as he reached for the one nearest her foot. In a fit of childish anger, she stepped on his hand.

"We have a case!"

"You were just saying how you didn't need me. Go be useful, woman. Solve crimes and sniff out clues without me getting in your way."

Lisbon bristled, and without another word she stomped into the elevator leaving Cho, Jane, and a few brave lurkers staring at the closed door warily. Jane just shrugged and continued to box up the fruit. Just a few more pranks, and he'd be out of this team for good. Granted, the brunette agent had managed to keep a hold of him a week longer than most, but he was sure she'd tire of him soon. The quicker the CBI realized he was only here for Red John, the quicker he could stop wasting time on these frivolous cases. He decided not to linger on his reaction to the fire in Teresa Lisbon's eyes as she stalked off. She was immensely satisfying to goad into action, not that he planned on getting used to it.

When he looked up, Cho was gone and he dumped the box on his couch. Pulling over a few desks, he searched through the kitchen drawers before emerging with a pitcher, a knife, and a package of Dixie cups. This was his best plan yet. Without warning, Minelli strode in and scowled at the sight of the consultant surrounded by fruit. Jane just smiled and held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

"It's a long story, and I only know half of it," he commented as the Director wisely chose not to respond.

Several productive hours later, Lisbon felt much more at ease. The case was coming together rather smoothly without Jane to cause any distractions or lawsuits. Surely Minelli would see the error in hiring him, and until then she hoped he would continue to keep himself busy in the office. She frowned. Maybe she should look into coloring books or a yo-yo. The man obviously needed something to keep him busy. Smiling at the thought, she tried not to dwell on the amusement that lingered after once of his escapades. Sure he caused a lot of trouble, but he was the one who could get away with doing or saying things she couldn't- no matter how much she wanted. And granted, it had been immensely satisfying to see the charlatan punched by the last grieving widower…

She pushed those thoughts aside as they pulled into the parking lot. Jane would not be staying, so there was no need to get attached. Dismissing the others, she headed up to office when she came to a sudden stop. A line stretched out of the bullpen and down the hall. A line of respectable agents who were now rolling their sleeves up and discussing ongoing cases like it was a local tavern. A line that was disappearing into her office. She was furious. Pushing through the line, their rude comments were silenced when the other agents realized just who was striding up to the front of the line. Silently, they scattered leaving Lisbon with an unexpected view of the perpetrator.

"Who's next?" Jane said without looking up as he continued to fill plastic cups with lemonade. Her desk had been wiped clean, and a small sign hung from the front proclaiming each cup, a quarter. Somehow, Jane had gotten hold of the large water cooler which had since been emptied and now sat on her desk full of the yellow-tinted liquid.

"Care to explain why my office has been turned into a lemonade stand?" she growled.

"Have a glass. You're obviously parched."

" Jane-"

"Or maybe your blood sugar's low. Seriously, just because a lemon attacked you this morning is no reason to hold a grudge. It's deliciously refreshing!"

"Is this your normal sales pitch?" she continued in annoyance as the man continued to fill glasses.

"Meh. Normally they just hand me a quarter and grab a cup. You, however, are definitely a difficult customer."

"Maybe I should take a percentage of your profit for rent," she muttered as she began to pick up a few cups and toss them in the trash.

"I was planning on splitting the profit with you anyways, but since you asked so nicely, your thirty one dollars and twenty five cents is in your top drawer. Although, I may have to take a dollar back since your destroying the merchandise." Lisbon stared back in shock.

"You made sixty two dollars and fifty cents by selling lemonade to federal agents?"

"Secret recipe?" he responded with a questioning lilt. She stifled a smile. Realizing she was starting to enjoy herself, she forced a frown back on her face.

"You hypnotized them, didn't you."

"Nope. All beverages were purchased and consumed under complete free will."

Maybe there was one too many full cups of lemonade, or maybe the addition of a second pitcher had her desk off balance. Looking back, it could have been her own weight as she leaned against her desk, or even Jane as he leaned closer to her. Whatever the reason, all rational though fled Lisbon's mind as the desk began to tip. The cooler of lemonade was precariously perched near the edge of her desk, her laptop directly underneath.

Her eyes widened.

Her reflexes were instinctive.

So was the bellowing that followed.

"GET OUT NOW!"

Anyone lingering outside her office was quickly met with a panicked Jane as the few remaining lemons were hurled in his direction. Clutching a very dry laptop, a very wet Senior Agent Lisbon shook with anger as she set the computer down carefully. Trying to remain calm, she headed towards Minelli's office armed with a lemon and leaving a dripping trail behind her.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

No one dared laugh as the door to the Director's office slammed shut where the matter was resolved behind closed doors. No one was really sure what had happened, only that Lisbon emerged slightly more at peace after the fact. The other agents were positive Jane would be gone the next day, but to their surprise he was waiting on the couch the next morning, sans lemons. Lisbon was surprising pleasant when she arrived, and the others continued to watch in suspicion. Rigsby was confused, and Cho was silent as usual. They all pretended not to notice when Lisbon called Jane into her office. The fact that he complied without question was another matter entirely. When they emerged later, Lisbon with file in hand, it was concluded Minelli had given her some sort of leverage over the blond. Something had shifted.

"Update your files," Lisbon announced as she handed both Cho and Rigsby a stack of papers. "This one takes priority." Rigsby tried not to show his surprise as he skimmed through the new case. The background was enormous. This was a career-making case. One he thought had been promised to Martinez in Major Crimes.

"We got the Red John case?" Cho asked as if to confirm the file in his hand was indeed the real deal.

"We got the Red John case," Lisbon responded, as Jane quietly sank onto his sofa. "We debrief in an hour."


	14. The Reckoning

Title: The Reckoning  
Rating: T  
A/N: Alternative ending scenario for the Season 3 finale. Spoilers for Strawberries & Cream. Written for the Paint It Red Ficathon. The prompt below was from ch19777.

For Tromana- Happy Late Birthday! And thank you for making me write again! I don't know what I'd do without you!And thank you for beta-ing your own present! Hehehehehe

I feel a little out of practice, so I'm going to try to write some more oneshots before returning to my other stories! I have started Part III of my crossover, and I'm about halfway through with the second chapter for that! YAY. I've missed you guys! Summer classes killed me!

GEN: Red John, Lisbon, _A good nightmare comes so rarely, those pretty dreams have already taken too much of your time. A good nightmare comes so rarely, I'll show you yours if you'll show me mine. - Dance of the Vampires, Invitation to the Ball_

* * *

"_I'll call you back."_

Her shoulder felt like it was on fire. She let out the breath she had been holding in a sharp hiss as the adrenaline from the last few minutes gradually wore off and intensified her pain. Scrunching her eyes shut, she tried to focus on breathing deeply through her diaphragm and keeping her right hand pressed tightly against the wound. Van Pelt was talking quietly in the kitchen, no doubt trying to urge the ambulance along even faster. The younger woman was dragging, still in shock, and unable to be completely useful in light of O'Laughlin's betrayal. Lisbon gritted her teeth, as she slumped to the floor.

Arching her back, she tried to get somewhat comfortable on the wooden floor of the cabin. The twinge shooting up her spine reminded her just how hard the coffee table was that she had skidded across. Considering the stinging, she figured it was safe to assume that she had scrapped her back on the corner before flipping onto the floor. Her forehead began to bead with sweat as she panted heavily. She was starting to regret her previous words to Jane.

"_I'm wounded, but I'm fine."_

She didn't feel fine anymore.

Sounds began to muffle and a sweeping solid black began to encroach on her vision. Her tongue felt heavy. Dry. Her body stiffened, as Madeleine Hightower knelt beside her, yelling something she couldn't quite make out. She felt additional pressure on her shoulder. More muffled yelling followed by weight on her abdomen. Pain. Her lips parted as she trembled. Her eyes closed, and a hand grabbed her wrist. She wanted to pull away from the firm grasp and sleep. She was so tired. She opened her eyes again, and her vision swam. Turning her head, she looked into O'Laughlin's dead gaze.

Everything went black.

* * *

There's a bright light. Too bright.

Fresh out of the Academy and she offers a quick wave goodbye to Sam Bosco. He turns to another man beside her as she heads towards Sacramento.

"We're losing her."

But they're not. She'll only be a few hours away. The CBI's a better move for her career and she promised to keep in touch.

Darkness.

She studies the crime scene with a practiced eye. She's heard the rumors about her being lead on this case. It'll either make or break her. Swallowing, she orders the scene secured.

"Carefully! Don't rush it."

She wants to protest. She knows what she's doing, but she knows she'll have to prove herself . It's still a boys club after all.

A blinding white pain.

The body was dumped in a ditch along the back roads of Southern California. It's a shame. The girl was young- a college student in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"She was shot again from behind. It was a through and through."

Breaking the news to parents is the worst. She'll leave out the part about the location of the body. No one needs to hear that their daughter was thrown away like garbage.

There's a flash of red

She's staring at a smiley face on the wall. The bloody symbol's grotesque, but what really catches her eyes are the woman's toenails. She'll never use red polish again.

"Scalpel."

She turns to Cho. It's definitely the work of a madman, but more likely knife work rather than a scalpel. He should know that.

Darkness.

Patrick Jane's standing in front of her holding a smoking gun. Looking horrified, he tosses it to the ground before staring at his own hands. Hardy lies dead nearby. She's trembling, but alive and unharmed. She can't believe he saved her life.

"He only fired once."

More pain.

And then, nothing.

* * *

When she opens her eyes again, she's staring at a white ceiling. The room is drab and depressing, with the constant beeping of monitors to drive everyone in a mile radius absolutely crazy. She hurts all over. Blinking, she meet's Kimball Cho's eyes as he dog-ears a page of his book before setting it on a nearby table.

"Can I get you anything?" he asks.

She swallows, her throat sore.

"Red John?"

"Dead. Jane's been arrested."

She closes her eyes and steels herself against a sudden surge of emotion. She shouldn't be surprised. She knew it was coming. Her eyes flicker open and she stays silent. Cho just watches her with a slight concerned expression. Her eyes lock on the large piece of gauze wrapped around her torso, and her brows furrow. Cho notices instantly.

"You were shot twice. Both went through cleanly, but they were worried about internal damage with the shot to your abdomen. They didn't think you'd pull through. Too much blood loss."

She appreciates her second's honesty. No wonder she felt like she'd been hit by a truck. A sudden realization hit her, and her gaze locked with Cho's.

Craig O'Laughlin only fired once.

* * *

She didn't sleep well that night.

The rest of her team had been called back into the office, and she was to remain in the hospital for another week for observation. They didn't want to leave her unattended, but crime didn't stop because one senior agent was injured. She waved them off with a small smile that quickly disappeared when they left the room. She hated hospitals, but for once in her life, she didn't protest. The pain meds were worth it. She passed the time in a delightful haze of morphine, too drugged to really think about the events that had occurred. She didn't want to think. If she didn't think, then she could delude herself into thinking it never happened.

The nightmares started the day after Cho left.

She woke up in a cold sweat unable to fully remember just what she had dreamed about. She was haunted by flashes of old cases, thoughts of Jane's butchered family, and Red John himself. With limited contact with the outside world, she still didn't know anything about the pending trial against Jane or even who Red John really was.

The nightmares grew more vivid each night.

She was berated one morning for pulling out her IV in her distress. The nurse tsked over the small cuts on her arm before reinserting the IV. Lisbon didn't say a word. Her thoughts were filled of masked men and knives.

Smiles and red nail polish.

And Jane.

She was relieved when she only had to spend one more night in the hospital. LaRoche had visited her earlier and made sure all the arrangements had been made for her release in the morning. She still hurt like hell, but the pain and muscle soreness was becoming much more bearable. The nightmares were the worst, not that she'd ever admit it. Red John was dead, and yet, she still wasn't free of him. He invaded her thoughts and dreams, taunting her, and despite death, continued to tighten his hold over Jane.

LaRoche never mentioned the unknown second shooter other than to confirm they had no leads.

She reluctantly closed her eyes.

* * *

Cho drove her home the next morning. She apologized for snapping at him as he unlocked her front door and confessed to the reason for her irritability. He just stared at her with a knowing look. Between the bomb and being shot it was perfectly understandable that she was having nightmares, and she knew he would never judge her.

She asked him to stay for dinner for his trouble.

He agreed because they both knew she didn't want to be left alone right now. Not with her memories and uninterrupted thoughts. Besides, he wanted to make sure she took another pain pill before bed.

The takeout arrived quickly, and they talked about everything she had missed while in the hospital.

Everything except Jane.

She left to change her bandages while he cleaned up. He was unprepared for the sound of breaking glass, and quickly drew his gun before swiftly heading to the back of her house. He was met with the sight of her ghost white face as she stood amongst a broken cup. She was clutching the gauze that had previously been wrapped around her torso so tightly her knuckles were white. It took him only a few seconds to realize what was wrong.

On the inside of the gauze was a small, red sticker. The kind a teacher puts on homework for a job well done. The smile mocked them. Lisbon finally looked up, her gaze clear but pained.

"It wasn't a dream," she said softly.

The nightmares would continue, and they were on their own.

Red John was still out there.


End file.
